


You Don’t Need to See His Identification

by ARJaJRA



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Protocols, SOLDIER - Freeform, shinra electric power company - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:22:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29886591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARJaJRA/pseuds/ARJaJRA
Summary: The three firsts are held up when a new badge policy is implemented.
Kudos: 13





	You Don’t Need to See His Identification

**Chapter 1  
Unauthorized**

Genesis liked the sound of his SOLDIER boots echoing through the corridors. Every lower lifeform on the floor knew they were coming. His individual gait left a distinct sound. Superiority reverberated from heel to toe. Sephiroth and Angeal had their own posture. Untouchable and respected. 

They rounded a corner and halted at the munition and materia storage room. The checkout post appeared vacant, so he scanned his badge on the security panel next to the door. An irritating buzz emitted, followed by a shrill recording, _“Unauthorized.”_ Genesis glowered at the newly installed speaker overhead in annoyance. Temper flaring, a minuscule fireball rolled around his fingertips.

“Hmm,” Sephiroth intoned behind him, just as confused when his badge produced the same result. Angeal tried next, nodding and releasing a resigned breath when his own proved ineffective. 

Genesis glanced at his comrades and stepped toward the reception. He rapped sharply on the window. A mousey-haired but pretty woman appeared behind the desk. Her bright green eyes widened as she recognized the visitors and quickly slid the glass open.

“Yes, sirs. How may I help you?” She asked, a slight quiver to her voice. Genesis’s lips formed a lopsided smile at her sweet and innocent voice, forgetting his irritation. He had a soft spot for comely girls. They tamed his temperament.

When Genesis only responded with a whispered _‘Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess,’_ Angeal impatiently shoved him out of the way. “Hello, Corporal. We’re here to sign out materia for training, but the badges don’t work on the panel.”

The young lady was fresh to this post, didn’t know the usual protocol when a First showed up. Usually, they were buzzed in with no requirement to scan their IDs. “Ah—uh, yes—sir, umm—you see—” she stammered, and Genesis felt his heart melt at her nervous demeanor.

“It’s alright, love,” he said, nudging Angeal to the side with his shoulder so that he could peer at her. Genesis disregarded his friend’s exasperated grunt and leaned onto the small counter. “There is no hate, only joy. I’m certain this is a horrible misunderstanding.”

He offered her his badge and flashed a grin when she reached out to take it. Genesis latched onto her fingers with his opposite hand and gently laid his ID into her palm. As she tried to yank free, he squinted at her nametag. “Lynn, is it?” Her head bobbed nervously as he finally released her. “It appears we’ve hit a snag, Lynn. Pride is lost—our badges denied.”

“Umm—yes, sir. I’m afraid there’s been a policy update and—” Lynn fidgeted self-consciously when his eyes dragged over her generic military issue jumper. “We’re in the midst of an audit and require everyone to sign in manually.”

“Seems like Heidegger is tightening the reins,” Genesis surmised, shifting to allow his friends to present their IDs to the lovely guard. “He likes to throw his weight around and control SOLDIER when it suits him. Doesn’t he, love?”

Lynn’s face reddened at his flirting, and Genesis smirked. She checked each badge dutifully into the computer and made notes in a logbook next to her keyboard.

“We don’t usually find non-commissioned officers manning this desk.” He pointed at the chevrons on her collar before continuing, “especially ones so good-looking.” Lynn focused on her task, snubbing his attempts to charm as she signed them in.

“The change is temporary during the audit,” she replied finally. “Then things should return to normal.” 

She handed back two and entered data from the third card several times before slowly rising from her seat with a concerned expression. Her eyes darted between the three waiting tolerantly as she timidly held out the last badge.

“I’m afraid this one is—umm—invalid—s—sir,” she said hesitantly, and Sephiroth retrieved his ID from her shaking hand.

Genesis didn’t bother to stifle the involuntary chuckle that escaped his throat. “You hear that, Seph? Your privileges are hereby revoked! Wings stripped away, the end is nigh.” He clapped his friend on the back, ignoring the scowl his mirth earned him.

“Are you certain, Corporal?” Sephiroth asked, maintaining his professionalism despite the snafu.

“Y—yes, sir. I’m afraid your badge was flagged with a _‘needs update’_ status.” She continued with a melodious tremble to her voice. Genesis let the grin spread wide across his face, resting his elbows on the counter as he watched her dreamily. He adored anyone who refused Sephiroth. 

“We’ve been explicitly instructed to inform SOLDIERs with old ones to report to the Public Safety administration office for a replacement. And—umm—to tell you that all training rooms, armories, and munitions storage will be—uh—you see—forbidden until such time as you are clear—”

She stopped speaking as the hallway rang with laughter. Sephiroth frowned at Genesis before he addressed the scared young woman. “Is there anything we could do in the meantime?” he asked, struggling to speak calmly.

“As long as an authorized officer can vouch for you,” she replied sweetly. “I can issue you a temporary badge with a registered photo. Do you have another form of identification on you?” Her question carried a hopeful lilt.

“I’m afraid I don’t have an additional ID with me,” Sephiroth replied between gritted teeth.

“You don’t need to see his identification,” Genesis chortled, waving a hand at his irate companion. “I offer thee this silent sacrifice. It’s Sephiroth. His beady little eyes are proof enough.”

“Genesis, you’re not helping,” Angeal interrupted in annoyance. “We understand there’s been a policy update, Corporal. But we’re running late for new recruit training, and we need to sign out materia for demonstration.”

“Yes,” Sephiroth agreed, no longer hiding his irritation with the entire delay. “This little hiccup will cause us to be tardy to orientation. It sets a poor example to impressionable young men.” 

“But—sss—sir, I—” she stuttered, trembling at his menacing presence.

“Aww, Seph,” Genesis moaned. “There are no dreams, no honor remains. Don’t be so mean. You’re frightening the enchanting dear. It’s ok, love. We’ll vouch for poor untrustworthy Sephiroth. Won’t we, Angeal.”

“I know—I—I’m so—sss—sorry.” She trailed her eyes down, refusing to meet the persistent glare until she suddenly found the courage to continue undeterred, “but we’ve been told no exceptions. I’ll get in trouble—”

“If Heidegger has an issue with me entering a room I’ve been freely permitted in since I was 9 years old, have him speak to me directly. Now open this door,” Sephiroth barked. Genesis frowned at Sephiroth’s intimidating tone and pushed off the counter. 

The young woman hustled at his order and entered her passcode to unlock the door. As the three passed through the hallway leading to the storage, Lynn hastily closed off the reception room, barring access into her workstation.

“Now you’ve done it,” Genesis snapped, leveling Sephiroth with an accusatory glare. “Was that necessary?”

“Let’s be quick,” Angeal said, giving Genesis an admonishing look. The three gathered the equipment needed and exited silently back into the main corridor. Genesis smiled to himself as he caught Sephiroth’s remorseful glimpse toward the shuttered window.


End file.
